


We Could Be

by ElderPrice



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Religious Guilt, Underage Drinking, i wrote this in 5 hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 07:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElderPrice/pseuds/ElderPrice
Summary: Mac and Charlie are abandoned by Dennis at a 4th of July party in the woods. Mac has lots of feelings and doesn't know how to deal with them, so he just resorts to religion and panic attacks.





	We Could Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paxch1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxch1/gifts).



_ JULY 4TH, 1994 _

 

_ 9:00 PM _

 

_ OUTSKIRTS OF PHILADELPHIA _

* * *

 

 

Only headlights illuminated the back road framed by trees in front of them. The six pack of beer between Charlie and Mac was as warm as the night, but they shared a can anyway. The sky was clean and bright, ready to be painted by man-made light. Through the light buzz, Mac recognized the song playing. When he looked over at Charlie passing him back the beer, he felt like the song was made for them. Their fingertips brushed, and Mac couldn’t place why, but he understood the lyrics more intimately. He could swear Charlie did too, in the fleeting moment where they met eyes. 

 

The song cut off abruptly, with the car lights coming on. They made it to the party, cars parked randomly among the clearing, theirs among them. Dennis looked back at them.

 

“You know the drill right? Don’t bother me unless the cops are coming?” Dennis clarified, resting his elbow on the headrest of his seat. Mac didn’t understand why Dennis would be so embarrassed of him and Charlie, he was the one who hung around them all the time.

 

“Dude, we don’t want to be apart of hitting on freshmen or whatever shit you’re doing,” Charlie was, justifiably, tired of Dennis’ shit. He’d been repeating his same plan to get this one chick to go out with him ever since he picked Mac up. 

 

“Hey, I’m the one getting laid here,” Dennis turned around and threw up his hands defensively. Again, it didn’t add up to Mac - but nothing Dennis did added up. Dennis was a step ahead of him and Charlie, he guessed. At least Dennis was tolerated by the popular crowd, that was better than what they were getting. Charlie left the car with the pack of beer, and Mac followed.  

 

Dennis disappeared into the crowd of people at a bonfire, Charlie nudged Mac slightly.

 

“C’mon dude, we don’t need him, we’re gonna have an awesome night by ourselves!” This sparked the familiar, warm feeling in Mac.

 

“Hell yeah, man! Gonna get drunk as fuck and watch the fireworks,” Their eyes met again and they felt their shared spark of mischief. Mac handed the beer back to Charlie, who finished it off and quickly discarded it on the ground.

 

“I think I know a good spot over here to watch the fireworks,” Charlie began towards a different patch of trees, and Mac followed. The woods were dark, leaves filtering most of the dim moonlight. Charlie’s hand found Mac’s and stole a beat from his heart. 

 

Why had they both been so different recently? Mac couldn’t help but notice even the smallest things about Charlie, his exposed collar bone, his messy hair, his freckles- he couldn’t have had this many freckles before. Once they reached the clearing shielded by the trees, every freckle was visible under the moonlight. His eyes had never been this visible- almost purified under the moon. And the first firework went off, red, loud, and accompanied by many others.

 

Charlie quickly sat down, attention completely turned to the sky. Mac followed, unable to take his eyes off of Charlie as the multicolor lights illuminated his smile. Mac turned his attention to cracking open another beer, and taking a drink - trying to look at the fireworks and shame nipped at him. Staring is weird, he shouldn’t be staring, he didn’t know what he was feeling but he thought he should feel bad for that too.

 

“Could you pass me the beer?” Charlie’s attention hadn’t even been pulled from the fireworks, but as they both touched the beer Mac could feel it again. He could feel the words from the radio pumped through his body. Charlie was staring at him now, with his full attention - and that made Mac feel so unexplainably lucky. 

 

Him and his best friend, so close, holding the same beer, as the fireworks became only fireflies. Charlie was so close, he saw every part highlighted by the distant explosions. They even became quieter, Mac only focused on what he could see in front of him. Then, his eyes closed and there were no one but him and Charlie. His lips were so soft and the only thing Mac thought to do was to greet them further. All he knew, all he felt was Charlie’s lips against his. 

 

Another firework squealed in a multicolor explosion, bright enough to penetrate Mac’s eyelid. The stain glass windows at church, the Sunday morning light painting the room with the Bible’s glass palette. Mac had only been to church as a child before now, squeezed between his parents. He sat up just enough to see the priest, remembering a similar image from his childhood. His memory didn’t bring the words, except “man shall not lie with man” and “sin”. Damnation, punishment for homosexuality. 

 

“No.” It came out sudden, and Charlie looked worried. How could Mac do this to him? He can’t do this to him, it wasn’t Charlie’s fault. Mac stood up and could barely catch himself. The fireworks were coming faster now, hitting him violently. 

 

“Mac, I’m sorry-” Charlie tried to find Mac’s hand again, but he stumbled back. 

 

“No, no, we can’t- I shouldn’t have-” It was so hot, it was so loud, the fireworks wouldn’t stop. Charlie looked so regretful, why would Mac do this to them.

 

“What’s wrong with me,” Mac said flatly as he ran back through the woods. Roots tripping him, Charlie shouting after him. He was already in hell. Charlie stood up, but he had slipped through the woods before he could catch him. He abandoned the case of beer to try and catch up.

 

Mac found the car, desperate to get in but not having a key. He tripped and hit the ground. His chest gave way and he sobbed. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Charlie was so perfect, Charlie shouldn’t go to hell it’s his fault. Mac’s brain couldn’t stop, as the fireworks squealed and hissed at him. Damnation. Hell. Punishment. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. What would his parents think? His dad would kill him if he knew this happened. He had to make his parents proud and this is how he does it, he cursed himself.

 

Charlie caught himself on the car hood, taking a breathe. He wanted to speak, he wanted to apologize, he wanted to ask if he was alright. It was plain as day, Mac sobbed tearlessly, forehead pressed against the ground. The hollowness of guilt settled in, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t bring himself to speak.

 

Dennis was storming back angrily, ready to rant on the entire car ride no doubt.  

 

“What a fucking bitch!-” Dennis unlocked the car, and Charlie tuned out the rant. Mac quickly got up and brushed himself off, not making eye contact. Instead of the backseat, Mac opened the passenger door and settled in.

 

Charlie looked at Mac through the window, then his own reflection, and sat down in the backseat. He looked to his hands, and tried to ward off all thoughts of Mac’s hands accompanying his. 

 

Mac’s palms and legs itched from the grass. A stinging, unrelenting itch that wouldn’t go away so long as he thought about it. He wouldn’t touch it, he wouldn’t think about it. The side mirror caught his eye, which met with Charlie’s. The radio’s words stung his heart,  _ just for one day _ . Charlie looked like he had lost something, it must have been really important. Everything told him to ask, offer some sympathy. Everything in him begged to comfort his friend.

 

Dennis turned off the radio with a groan, and Mac turned his attention away from the mirror with a jump.

“I fucking hate that song.” 


End file.
